Tears of Love
by onelastwish-x
Summary: "They don't understand. There isn't a way to get over him. He's completely etched in you, deeply ingrained in every fiber of your being." Happy ending.


**A/N: Hello! This is much different from my usual kind of stories. It's much more angsty and although it features a happy ending of sorts, it's not a fluffy fic. Just warning you, because those are the fics I usually write. Hope you like! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Tears of Love**

Tears.

They blind your vision, making you stumble as you struggle to reach your destination. Tears of anger, humiliation, bitterness, sorrow…

Tears of unrequited love.

You sob as you remember. He was kind about the rejection, going to the trouble to explain everything good he saw in you. He even promises not to tell a single soul. It's not enough though. It's never enough. All you've ever wanted is for him to be happy. But, it still hurts. Rejection always hurts.

When you reach your bed, you cry for the whole night. Casting a silencing spell does wonders, for the other girls fall into sleep slumber. You don't. You can't.

You scream with the pain. It's an almost physical sort of pain, mingled with the stabs your heart lets out every so often. You curl up like a baby, weeping silently, before letting out harsh sobs that wrack your body. In the middle of the night, you laugh almost crazily at the insanity of it all.

You knew he wouldn't like you.

You're up for that whole night, spending it in a haze of broken dreams and crushed hopes. In the morning, you're ready earlier than anybody else, easily altering your horrid appearance with a few waves of your wand.

Some of your good friends, the ones who knew you confessed, tentatively ask how you are.

You smile for them. You laugh it off, saying you're fine, that you're over it. That you don't really care. You create a façade that nobody sees through, one of seeming happiness. Your grades soar and your friends love you for all the attention you shower upon them. You spend time on how you look and now your mess of a dorm is always clean.

Your teachers smile at you, patting you on the back. Your friends hug you, gasping in wonder at the newer, better version of Ginny. Your parents congratulate you and your brothers tease you lovingly. You smile for all of them, all teeth and dimples, and not one of them sees the shining exterior for what it really is: a mask, to hide the broken little pieces of your shattered heart.

You want to scream.

Because Harry's there, with his piercing green eyes and lopsided grin. Because Harry's _everywhere, _haunting you with his memories. He avoids you in order to evade the awkwardness and it does nothing to ease the pain. Nobody understands. You may be only a teenager, but that doesn't mean your feelings don't run deep.

They don't _understand. _There isn't a way to get over him. He's etched in you, deeply ingrained in every fiber of your being. Everything makes you think of him. Every second is spent in an agonizing torture in thoughts of what he might be doing. No matter what, you can't stop liking him…loving him…whatever this feeling is.

So you cry at night, happy again by daylight. People wave to you in the hallways and boys flirt with you. You flirt back, twirling a strand of your red hair, but there's no feeling. Not the feeling you get from Harry.

Over Christmas break, when Harry is there, your pain intensifies. You begin to crumble. You go to Bill the first night, and he tries to pry why you're crying from you but you can't answer. So he simply lets you lay your head on his lap and strokes your long hair while you cry. Charlie is your solace the second night. His strong arms are the perfect comfort, and though he too asks questions, he's forced to give up.

Percy, surprisingly, asks nothing. When you rap upon his door, clad in only a nightdress despite the harsh weather, he simply opens his arms wide and lets you sob for hours on end. He says nothing, only rocking you back and forth.

Fred and George take a different route, trying to make you laugh that fateful night you come to them. They succeed, making you giggle despite the pangs in your chest, and their expressions soften before they envelope you in a hug.

You dare not visit Ron, for Harry shares his room.

Soon, Hermione is pressed into wiping you tears. You run out of people to cry into and so spend your nights staring up at the ceiling. Faintly, you wonder how many tears you must've had to last you this long and you're glad when there isn't that familiar prickle in your eyes.

People start asking how you are, especially your brothers. Bags appear under your eyes and your cheeks grow hollow as you struggle to keep up that mask of glitter and gold. You no longer cry. Your tears have been dried up.

One day, you'll shatter.

One day, Harry will be struck by a sudden thought.

One day, Harry will kiss you.

One day, you'll become Ginevra Molly Potter.

And then you won't even need the tears.


End file.
